


Operation: Rescue Lilith

by queeriosn_milk



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - No Powers, And To Save Her Wife, F/F, Kidnapping, No One Hurts Lilith And Gets Away With It, Spellman Family Assassins, Zelda Spellman Needs A Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:33:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26918173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queeriosn_milk/pseuds/queeriosn_milk
Summary: “I hope you didn’t make the erroneous assumption that I was a bottom, Lilith.”There was something extraordinarily dignified about the way she sat in Lilith’s lap, with her spine straight as a board and her head held high. Like royalty. No, not just royalty. She is the Queen. Definitely the Queen. With everyone kneeling beneath her, bowing to the magnificence of her strength and power. No one would dare to question her.“A queen never sits at the bottom,” she answered back, “and, you are most certainly a queen, Zelda Spellman.” Without realizing, Lilith had become a disciple of her majesty. She was not a peasant, begging for the Queen’s acknowledgement. No, she is more important than that, yet she was still so unworthy of being in this woman’s presence. Could anyone ever be deserving of her?...The Spellman Family have been assassins for generations and more than a few enemies want Zelda's head on a silver platter. When Lucifer Morningstar, their top rival, kidnaps her wife Lilith, the Spellmans undertake a dangerous mission to rescue the woman Zelda loves. Lucifer started a war and Zelda was ready to put an end to it.
Relationships: Zelda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith
Comments: 7
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

When Zelda Spellman awoke, she was expecting breakfast in bed, courtesy of her adoring wife. After an evening of close combat training, her muscles were strained and sore from the absolute thrashing she was subjected to because Lilith believed she’d become too comfortable with guns and knives in their line of work. Despite disagreeing initially, Zelda supposed her partner was right; carefully laid plans often go sideways and guns run out of bullets. 

So, they sparred.

More often than not, Zelda found herself pinned to the floor, the sweat on her cheek sticking to the exercise mats in the basement of her family home. There would be no mercy shown from the woman she married and the snickering from her niece and nephew only frustrated the assassin more. While talented killers in their own rights, Sabrina and Ambrose rarely saw the face to face dangers of their profession that she, Lilith, and sometimes Hilda were forced to experience on occasion. 

Generally, their assignments were simple and quickly completed. Still, there were the occasions where intel was bad or a target makes an unexpected decision. There were contingency plans for their contingency plans, but human beings are fickle and it’s impossible to anticipate every single move a person might take during the course of a mission. And, anyone unlucky enough to be working in a business where people want them dead is likely more crafty and wily than your average Joe. 

Her niece and nephew would soon begin joining them on more risky missions, but both sisters wanted to keep their charges out of the line of fire for as often as possible. They learned the hard way, the cost of their vocation, when their brother and his wife did not return home after what was intended to be a simple assassination. Raising two children and being For Hire killers was more complex than they could ever have anticipated.

So, Ambrose stayed at home and worked as their technical support, preparing dossiers and hacking into close circuit systems to give them an extra eye in the room while infiltrating facilities. Almost 4 years older than his 16 year old cousin, he was allowed the occasional mission on his own and was developing his reputation for infiltration and classified data recovery. Recently, Sabrina began shadowing her Auntie Lilith on long range missions as the youngest Spellman was growing quite adept with a sniper rifle. For the time being, they were chaperoned on nearly every mission their aunts deemed safe enough for them to accept, often preferring to drag Lilith along with them when the other assassin was available.

While gruesome, killing was in the Spellman’s blood and Lilith was a perfect addition to their little cohort. Once employed by their biggest rival, Lilith Morningstar was the ultimate killing machine. Her execution was flawless and the forensic sophistication of her kills left international investigators stumped and aggravated by the blatant taunts behind her infamous calling card. Any officer arriving to a scene immediately knew they were looking at an unsolvable case whenever a card from the Raider Waite tarot deck is discovered nearby. She was a master in close combat fighting and fire arms, two categories the Spellman Family was proficient in, but they leaned towards poisoning and knife play when they were killing someone. 

Even as she found herself struggling under the superior physical strength of her lover, Zelda couldn’t believe she’d fallen in love with one of the most skilled assassins to ever live and that the other woman loved her back. Such sappy thoughts distracted her from the task at hand. She bucked her hips from the floor, only succeeding in shifting Lilith’s weight from her hips to her waist, but failing at throwing her away completely. With her hands pinned above her head, she had few options to dethrone the woman with a mocking smile on her face. As the dark haired woman leaned down to gloat, her wife strained her neck upwards to breech the distance between their faces. 

“I hate you.” She gritted between her teeth. 

“No, you don’t.” Lilith retorted, her grin enormous and maniacal. She shifted her lower body back to force Zelda’s hips back to the ground before the red haired woman had the chance to execute a throw. The sound of Sabrina and Ambrose shouting words of encouragement at their aunt were drowned out by the heaving of their chests after well over an hour of brawling. She couldn’t help but pause to appreciate the superior view she had of her wife’s breasts threatening to tumble from the high impact sports bra she wore, hoping they would have the energy for a little nude wrestling after this training session.

Seeing the glazed over expression on Lilith’s face, Zelda knew her window of opportunity was slight, so she was quick to jerk her hips as forcefully as possible to send the distracted woman rolling to the floor. She wasted no time reversing their positions, pinning the dark haired woman to the floor with two hands, one on her wrists and the other grasping her jaw. Despite having been beaten, Lilith looked more than pleased with the position she was now in. 

“If you wanted to be on top, all you had to do was ask, my love.” 

“We both know you prefer me on top, dear.” Zelda quipped, smirking down at her wife. 

For a spell, she waited to see if her smart mouthed wife would attempt an escape and she could see the wheels turning in her head. Unfortunately, the bubble around them was burst by the excited sound of Sabrina’s voice congratulating her aunt before Lilith had the chance to execute another maneuver. Seeing the end to the bout, the eldest Spellman stood and wiped the sweat from her forehead, using her other hand to help the other woman from the ground. 

There were few other words spoken that evening, the wear of the day seeping into their bones. As the rest of their family rambled up the stairs to their beds, the married couple were allowed a moment to themselves. Stepping into her wife’s open arms, Zelda rested her chin on Lilith’s shoulder and held her around the waist. 

“You did better today. Still needs work, but better.” Lilith commented, rubbing the sore muscles of her wife’s sweat coated back. 

“Well, we all can’t be 160 pounds of pure muscle.” Zelda bit back, pressing her lips to the dark haired woman’s expose neck.

“Yes, but I think you like my muscles.” She pulled away quickly to strike a pose, flexing her arms and wiggling her eyebrows goofily at the woman she was happily married to. They both laughed, a yelp of surprise escaping Zelda’s mouth when Lilith literally swept her off her feet in a bridal style carry. “I wouldn’t be able to do this without all my muscles.” 

“And, I do appreciate this. Very much so.” Zelda told her, leaning up to press her lips to Lilith’s cheek. “Maybe I’ll show you just how much I appreciate them if you carry me upstairs.”

Unfortunately, that proposition never came to fruition because both women were out like a light by the time their heads hit their respective pillows after a (shared) scalding hot shower. Still, when Zelda Spellman woke up the next morning, she did not expect to find the front door wide open with a tray of coffee and scones scattered to the floor, a bloody trail leading down the porch and into the front yard. 

She barely remembered the deafening scream that crawled up through her throat and pierced the peaceful slumber of the family manor. Did not remember her sister’s consoling touch and her niece’s assurances that they would find Lilith and her nephew’s determined expression as he retreated to his “Bat-Cave” to search for answers. 

She just remembered the sour taste of bile on her tongue and the feeling of blood dripping between her fingers when her nails broke through the tender skin of her palm. Zelda paid no mind to Hilda as the blonde woman ushered her to the settee in the foyer and tutted away to retrieve the First Aid Kit. The only sound she could hear was her own heart beating ferociously as the anger of a thousand suns swelled in her chest. There was only person in the world bold enough to kidnap Lilith in her own home.

Lucifer Morningstar was the leader of the only family of assassins to rival the Spellman family. And, Lilith’s ex-husband. “Bastard” would be the nicest way to describe the putrid man who’d taken control of the Morningstar Clan after the sudden death of his father. There were rumors that he’d killed the man himself, but there was never substantial evidence to prove it and his ascension to power was more than unwelcomed. 

The distinction was clear between their two families and the Spellman’s would always be the more respected organization, but Lucifer was determined to erase the other family from the face of the earth to assure his rise to absolute power in their clandestine world. 

He began with killing less involved members of their family, those who were rarely in the field or undertook less dangerous contracts, ruthlessly slaughtering aunts and uncles and cousins around the globe. The first spilled blood initiated a war that would only end when one of their leaders was dead and buried. Without Zelda Spellman at the helm, their family line would crumble, or so he believed.

Many branches of the Spellman Family were living underground, placing their utmost trust in Zelda to handle the ambitious man before returning to their positions in the organization. Instead of acting rashly, the head of the family was patient and diligent in her preparation, taking care to assure the safety of her loved ones before finalizing a strong strategy. She knew Lucifer was holding a trump card and needed to know what that was before taking any retaliatory action. 

Imagine her surprise to discover that Lucifer Morningstar was married to the second most dangerous woman alive and the most breathtaking woman Zelda had ever laid her eyes on. 

Lilith, a tan brunette with legs for days, introduced herself by holding a 9mm pistol to Zelda’s forehead one evening in Paris. With midnight curls tucked beneath a fashionable beret, the woman in question was stunning from head to toe. Her shoes were black, patent leather platforms with burgundy laces that matched her blazer and her lips perfectly. The rest of the ensemble was dark, perfect for blending into a crowd at a moment’s notice. She gripped the Sig Sauer firmly, index finger hovering patiently over the trigger as she stared through Zelda like she was a window. 

The redhead supposed her first mistake was taking a seemingly modest request to kill a local politician guilty of abusing his wife, an assignment she could have left to her sister or nephew, but she insisted on taking the job herself. She loved Paris in the spring, especially once the sun went down and the air began to chill. 

Of course, her second mistake was detouring from her route to the nearby safe house to visit a patisserie that sold fresh crepes until close. When she ducked into the dark alley, she never expected to be stopped by the woman with more rumors than truth to her name, but was, above all else, known to be Lucifer Morningstar’s bride.

Rather than start a fight that would not end in her favor, she held the bag of steaming pastry in the air and gestured to the park across the street.

“If you’re going to kill me, at least allow me the courtesy of eating my dessert first.” 

Without waiting for answer, she turned in her heels and retreated to the bench near the entrance of the park. The steps that followed her were silent, but she still felt the other woman’s presence at her back. A warm plastic container was pulled from the paper bag, along with two forks. She guessed the young girl at the counter thought she’d be sharing her sweet treat. Figuring there was no harm in doing so, she held out the second fork to her companion who stared back at her through dark eyes.

“I didn’t come here to eat.” Lilith scoffed, turning her nose up at the proffered utensil. The pistol shined under the dim lights, trained on Zelda’s rib cage. Ignoring the obvious threat, the redhead took a seat and watched as the other woman followed, though notably more subdued.

“Well, I did and my mother raised me to always share my sweets with beautiful women.” A singular brow twitched upwards as Lilith’s gaze continued to burn a hole through her companion. Zelda shrugged before setting the extra fork on the bench between them. She used her own to break off a piece of the confection and began devouring the delicious treat that very well might be her last. The redhead didn’t even hold back a sensual moan from escaping her lips as the crepe melted on her tongue. “Technically, my mother intended me to share my treats with handsome men, but what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her, right?”

Lilith reared back, perplexed by the sounds the other woman was making and the subconscious desire she had to bring such erotic sounds from her target’s pouty, rosy lips. She was here to kill Zelda Spellman, not listen to her moan over French pastries.

“I shared my first crepe with a gorgeous Spanish exchange student when I was 18. Her name was Claire and she smelled of salt and sand from a lifetime lived by the sea. It was all very poetic.” The silence among the two women was unnerving, so Zelda spoke between bites, sneaking careful glances at the dark haired woman holding her at gun point. “I was in Paris for a week to kill the Belgian Prime Minister and I had two days before the series of events he was to attend began. I was ahead of schedule and decided to visit lesser known landmarks around the city. Claire found me outside the patisserie these crepes came from, sipping espresso with a half-eaten plate of crepes in front of me. We shared the remainder of my crepes and a wonderful night together.”

The leader of the Spellman Family threw her red hair over her shoulder, stretching her neck as if the seemingly picturesque trip down memory lane brought stress to her body. She was unarmed, sitting next to a woman with every intention of killing her, but she was calm. 

Her state of ease perplexed Lilith who’d watched men cry and beg for their lives when met with the same fate. They wept like babies and pleaded for their wives and their children as the end of their existences grew near, but Zelda Spellman was different. There wasn’t a tremble in her voice and her enjoyment of her dessert did not waver despite the weapon pointed directly at her heart. 

“Why are you not afraid of me?” Lilith demanded, her grip tightening around her weapon. Zelda only sighed and set her fork down, barely a quarter of the way through her crepe. Turning her body to face the other woman, she returned her would-be assassin’s intense gaze.

“Do you really think you’re the first person to point a gun at me?” She asked evenly, the illuminance of the moon casting her pale skin in a radiant light. 

“No, but most people aren’t as comfortable at gun point as you seem to be.” Behind a soft chuckle, the other woman’s green eyes were sedate, almost sad like she was remembering the young woman she was before becoming so comfortable with her own mortality, but that was the reality of their world. 

“Well, this wouldn’t be the first, second, or even the third time I’ve stared down death. I guess you develop an immunity over time.” The severity of her words dangled in the air between them.

Lilith understood this feeling, remembered the abuse she’d suffered at the hands of men and women throughout her life. In order to survive, you have to harden yourself, make your skin so strong that the pain and the hatred and violence never penetrate who you are beneath the flesh. Looking at the redhead who returned to eating her dessert, she wondered the other woman she had endured. 

Where were her scars? Were they outside or inside? Both?

Much like a child reaching for a hot stove, there was something impulsive drawing Lilith to the head of the Spellman Family, daring her to be reckless. In the back of her mind, she understood the chance that she very well might be burned, but she was still compelled to reach forward her with curiosity.

Lucifer was explicit about her mission: kill the head of the Spellman Family or never return. Often, her targets were their employers’ business competitors, political rivals, and violent men who wished to see their wives dead when they outlived their worth. Her work was emotionally exhausting, constantly allowing terrible people to trample and abuse the less fortunate or well intentioned. But, this assignment was different. She’d read the dossier on Zelda Phiona Spellman cover and cover, unable to find a suitable reason this woman should die.

Unlike the Morningstar Clan, the Spellman Family was known for accepting contracts to eliminate the worst human beings known to man; rapists, abusers, pedophiles, and politicians siphoning funds away from unprivileged children all cowered at the mention of their name. In assassin circles, they were well respected, almost revered for their skill and dedication to a strict moral code.

For over one hundred years, they never killed anyone who didn’t deserve to be killed. 

There was always a part of Lilith that questioned the jobs she was given by Lucifer Morningstar, the man whom she was regrettably married to. Theirs was never a union of love and devotion, but a business arrangement meant to benefit them both in time. Beneath the façade of a happy marriage, there was an unspoken agreement between them; mutually assured destruction. She knew his darkest secret, the one that would ensure that he would die a painful, excruciating death at the hands of his own family. He should have died the same night as his father, but she saved him and he found himself indebted to her.

For many years, their arrangement was acceptable. He trained her in the art of killing, watching as she surpassed the most experienced members of his family and even himself. But, Lucifer was an insecure and jealous man. A man like him was not built to watch a woman receive the accolades and praise he believed only he deserved. When people whispered behind his back, they questioned his ability to lead their family to greatness and wondered if his wife would be a more appropriate leader, despite not being blood related.

On more than one occasion, he tried to kill her, but the biological imperative to survive was so deeply ingrained in Lilith that he failed each time. So, he sent her on an impossible mission to kill the woman he hated more than Lilith herself. Unfortunately for Lucifer, while he was intelligent, could not have anticipated the kindred spirits found in Zelda and Lilith. They were two women who’d seen the dark side of man more than once and carried their battered souls with pride.

When their paths crossed that night in Paris, Lilith made a decision, one she’d wanted to make for many years. Instead of pulling the trigger, she set her pistol on the bench between them and reached for the abandoned fork. 

In the end, Lilith never fired a shot.

The sound of Ambrose stampeding down the staircase was thunderous, yanking Zelda from her own thoughts as he shoved a pile of papers into her hands and began explaining the documents in front of her. With her singular free hand, as Hilda was still applying gauze to the other, she flipped through the pages detailing the newly purchased lands under the Morningstar Clan’s name.

According to his research, a distant cousin was now the proprietor of the speakeasy three towns over named Dorian’s, the nearest location owned by the Morningstar Clan. As she read over the information, the eldest Spellman began to compose a one woman rescue operation. 

Hilda watched as her sister retreated, both physically and mentally, immersing herself in the mission ahead that would be more personal than any they’d undertaken. She never deciphered if Zelda’s reclusive personality was a symptom of their upbringing or a product of their profession, but she refused to allow her sister to rescue the woman she loved by herself. Lilith was family and before the redhead could escape entirely, her path was blocked by her niece and nephew’s outstretched arms. 

“You can’t rescue Lilith by yourself, Auntie. It’s too dangerous.” Ambrose implored, his dark eyes too hard and stern for someone so young. He knew the risks, understood the immeasurable cost of losing his Aunt Zelda and Lilith. His parents paid that price, at Lucifer’s hand no less, and he would not allow the woman who raised him as her own to jeopardize her life thoughtlessly.

Regardless, the young man, still a child in the eyes of his aunts turned surrogate mothers, knew the battle to convince Zelda to accept their help would be uphill. Thankfully, his Aunt Hilda seemed to be in agreement.

“Ambrose is right, Zelds, you will not be walking into the lion’s den alone.” Her little sister was somber with her words as she gripped Zelda’s upper arm in a vice to keep her from sprinting away. She tightened the hold when the other woman attempted to pull away, color rising to her face in anger as she turned to her sister violently.

“Absolutely not! You all will remain here. I will not have your blood spilled in this feud with Lucifer. I refuse!” Her voice, raw from tears and exhaustion, broke at the thought of her loved ones placing themselves in harm’s way for her sake. However foolish, she genuinely believed that her life was less valuable than theirs and was blind to her own worth. She failed to see the devastation her death would leave in its wake. “If Morningstar wants me, than he shall be granted his wish.”

For once in her life, Sabrina Spellman was silent, her lips turned down as she listening to her aunt’s absolute resignation and willingness to relinquish her own life as if she did not matter. As if she wasn’t the glue that held their family together. As if she wasn’t the closest thing the young girl would ever have to a mother. 

“Fine,” she whispered as everyone turned towards her, “go save Lilith by yourself.” 

“What? You can’t be serious, Sabrina.” Ambrose exclaimed, turning in surprise to his cousin. The young woman’s face was an exact duplicate of his aunt’s, their brows furrowed and eyes ablaze with indignation and fury. They stood face to face, waiting for the other to concede, unaware of how alike they truly were.

“No, Ambrose, if Aunt Zelda wants to run and get herself killed, why should we stop her? Clearly, she’s made up her mind. She doesn’t care what we think.” 

“Of course I care, Sabrina.” Zelda cried out, pulling away from the semi-circle of bodies around her to pace across the rug, her hands gesticulating violently. “I care too much to allow you to place your life in danger for my sake.”

“But, you’ll throw your own life away, just like that?” Sabrina yelled back, stopping Zelda in her tracks. 

“Absolutely.” 

“Then, you don’t really care because if you did, you would be able to see that losing you would destroy this family. Do you think that’s what Lilith would want? Do you think any of us would want that?” Her niece’s words gave her pause. While she truly believed they would be able to survive without her, maybe she was wrong in that assumption. 

After Edward and Diana’s deaths, she promised that she would protect her family, even at the cost of her own life, but that didn’t mean she was expendable. Quite the opposite really. Endeavoring to confront Lucifer alone would be selfish and foolhardy when there were three people willing to stand by her side as a family to rescue a woman they each loved dearly. 

Rather than continuing to fight, the redhead wrapped her arms around her niece’s shoulders, pulling her close just as the girl began to weep tears of anger. She did not look up to see the silent cries of her sister and nephew for fear that she may join them.

As she held Sabrina, she remembered the tiny blonde toddler who would sleep in the foyer until her Auntie Z returned from her missions, excited for the woman who regaled her with fantastical tales of her life. Before she had a chance to blink, that young child had grown into a young woman with an attitude and passion that rivaled her own, dread tightening around her throat as she thought about the baby she sang lullabies stepping into the line of fire. But, that was the reality of their lives. She just never thought the day would come so soon.

Zelda let her niece go, reaching with gauze covered hands to gently wipe the tears from her flushed cheeks. Against her better judgement, she would accept their help.

And, thus began their first mission as a family:

Operation: Rescue Lilith


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A messenger comes bearing bad news for Lilith. And, a flashback, featuring spy games and ladies kissing.

Hilda is fixing a pre-mission dinner for her family when the doorbell rings. She’s readied a small feast of high protein and carbohydrate foods that would hold their stomachs over until they could eat as a family once again. While everyone went their separate ways to ready for the task ahead of them, she took on the responsibility of clearing away the forgotten breakfast and Lilith’s blood from their front porch.

The afternoon was timid, boarding on chilly with black clouds rolling over their home to cast the manor in an ominous shroud. A sweater was required for the two hours she spent kneeling on the porch with a brush and bucket by her side. Even though cleaning her sister in law’s blood is its own unspoken trauma, she did not mind the meaningless chore of scrubbing and cooking before engaging in this deadly rescue mission.

Each member of their family followed their own rituals to ready themselves for missions.

Ambrose blasted 80s British rock bands from his stereo as he scoured the dark web for data pertinent to his assignments, gathering every piece of information available about his targets, their locations, and their daily habits. Sabrina spent time with her friends, doing whatever joyful things teenagers these days did, especially those deeply entrenched in clandestine business. Hilda tended to her greenhouse of vegetables, herbs, and obscure poisonous plants, carefully preparing meals and deadly cocktails. Zelda cleaned her weapons, polishing knives and disassembling guns until they sparkled under the light.

She’s pouring Zelda a double shot of espresso when the first shot reaches her ears. She rushes toward the sound, carving knife in her hand and poised for action.

Their niece and nephew arrive to the foyer just as Zelda raises her blade to Faustus Blackwood’s throat, the vile man pressed to the floor beneath her body with a menacing grin on his face. A thin line of blood trickles down his neck, threatening to stain the freshly cleaned carpet, Zelda’s signature pistol discarded several feet away.

“Start talking before you lose the ability to do so, Faustus. I am not in a forgiving mood.” She demanded, drilling her knee painfully into his rib cage. He didn’t even flinch as she gripped the hilt tighter.

“Oh, believe me, dear Zelda, I know exactly what’s got you all hot and bothered.” Faustus sneered, his words and laugh chilling the blood in her veins.

The feeling of his body moving under the weight of her hand was revolting and she reared away just as Sabrina retrieved the forgotten pistol from the floor. With the knife still pointed at his carotid artery, Edward’s former protégé stood and dusted his suit, unbothered by the threat of violence looming around him.

“If you’re responsible for Lilith’s disappearance, you’re going to regret coming here.” Sabrina told him, releasing the safety on the gun. He barely spared the young woman a glance before doubling over in laughter.

“I am most certainly responsible for her absence. But, I wouldn’t be so swift to violence if I were you, girl.” Unbuttoning his jacket, he removed a card from the inside pocket, lazily holding the piece of paper out to Hilda. The blonde woman snatched the offending item from him and began reading the embossed print aloud.

“‘You are cordially invited to witness the demise of Lilith Morningstar. This evening at Dorian Grey’s Speakeasy, the world’s greatest assassin will meet her maker. Friends and family are welcome to join the celebration and witness Lucifer’s ascent to power.’” Flipping the card around, she continued to read, “‘if the messenger does not return within the hour, Lilith Morningstar will promptly be executed.’”

“You can’t be serious.” Ambrose shouted from the top of the stairs, his knuckles white from gripping the banister.

Zelda seized the card from her sister’s hand, reading the words herself before crumbling it in her palm and throwing it to the ground. She used the tip of the knife to tilt Faustus’s neck up, treading into his personal space. The grimy smell of his cologne made her want to gag, but she refused any show of weakness in front of the man she believed killed her brother and his wife, and now openly admitted responsibility for the sudden disappearance of her wife.

“How do I know she’s still alive?” She questioned.

“That’s the best part, isn’t it?” He told her, using his palm to slide the knife away from his face. “You don’t know if your precious Lilith is still alive. But, you love her too much to risk ending my life here and now.”

No one in the room wanted to admit it, but they knew Faustus was right. They were silent as he strutted from their home, weapons trained on his back as he left the front door wide open and blowing in the wind. Before he could enter his car, Zelda used her knife to dig the stray bullet from wall adjacent to the door.

“Faustus?” She called out, getting his attention long enough to throw the bullet across the lawn. The flattened piece of metal traversed the hood for his car and rolled into his awaiting palm. “Next time, I won’t miss.”

Before he had the opportunity to respond, she slammed the door loudly and leaned back against it. She could feel the eyes boring holes into her flesh, but she chose to ignore them for just a moment. To allow herself a brief reprieve from the miserable day she was having. Knowing Faustus was involved made the situation that much more tenuous. On his own, Lucifer was a wild card, but their brother’s former student was even more unpredictable and thirsty for the power he could not achieve over women who surpassed his own abilities.  
Insecure men made for dangerous enemies.

The grandfather clock on the wall chimed loudly, signaling the arrival of 6 PM. Hilda sighed quietly as she watched her sister attempt to hold her seams together, even as fear and anxiety spilled from within. There would be just under 6 hours before the meeting was to take place, barely enough to plan.

Rather than state the obvious, she silently gestured for her niece and nephew to follow her into the kitchen. When Zelda finally opened her eyes, she was blissfully alone. The setting sun bled through the glass as she made a mental list of the members of the Morningstar Clan who were likely to be present at Dorian’s that night.

For a time, there were rumors that the elder members were plotting to have Lucifer dethroned but they did not have sufficient evidence to organize a coup without his supporters becoming a significant hurdle. Many believed Lilith’s leadership would be more prosperous in the long run, despite the clan’s patriarchal history. They knew the road that Lucifer was leading them down would be tumultuous and bloodstained, a war their ranks could not afford.

Unfortunately, Lilith disappeared before they could implore her to handle Lucifer herself. Their leader claimed that she’d been killed on a mission, but there was never a body to prove it. Almost two years passed before her change of allegiances became widely known.

Joining the Spellman’s organization was easy. Her reputation was flawless and she was more than willing to turn her abilities on the degenerates who would have once taken pleasure in ruining her life. Men with money and power were all the same, their cores rotten and putrefied.

Gaining their trust, however, was more complicated than Lilith anticipated. She proved herself to be an immeasurable asset on her first mission, a tag along with Zelda, who was unwilling to leave the other woman alone with her family.

  
_They were hired to execute the owner of a massive oil company who was responsible for a devastating spill in the Gulf of Mexico that killed hundreds of thousands of local wildlife. There were over a dozen countries and environmental organizations that wanted Walter Lewis III dead, the price of his head valued at $30 million._

_So, a trap was set for the billionaire misogynist._

_Ironically, Walter Lewis would die in his own home, during a charity event of his own making. The proceeds from an extensive auction were to be donated to organizations invested in saving the remainder of the wildlife in the several hundred miles of ocean poisoned by his company’s drilling. There would be over 300 notable names, sipping expensive wine and dining on buckets of caviar while they pretended to care about the environments being destroyed by their businesses. Fake identities and a falsified invitation would ensure they would be able to get close enough to their target._

_The event would take place at the 2,554-acre Texas estate passed down through three generations of Lewis’s family. When they arrived to the main entrance, Lilith at the helm of a borrowed Maserati, the gate attendant directed them to the leftmost road which took them to the primary residence a mile away. They pulled behind a line of equally luxurious cars and waited for an available valet to take charge of their vehicle._

_“Are we clear about the plan, Lilith?” The redhead questioned, leveling her companion with a demanding look. While she trusted the other woman’s skill, Zelda was weary of their ability to work as a team._

_“Crystal clear, boss lady.” With a mocking salute, she exited from the car and handed the keys to the young valet while another opened the passenger door. She jogged around to meet her date, nodding to the young man who opened the door as she offered Zelda her hand. While she was tempted to roll her eyes at the display, the leader of the Spellman Family accepted the proffered appendage and gracefully stepped into the bright lights. Valets, guests, and Lilith herself ogled the beautiful woman as she adjusted the straps of her gown and fluffed her fiery locks._

_Zelda Spellman was dressed to the nines, playing the role of billionaire heiress with Lilith as her companion for the evening. She was exquisitely draped in a black A-line gown by Christian Dior, her pale décolletage exposed and red hair curled delicately. Reports dictated that there would be a metal detector at the entrance of the ballroom, therefore she was unarmed to the naked eye. Her hair was held back by two decorative pins, each disguising micro needles laced with a concoction prepared by Hilda and Sabrina._

_On the other hand, Lilith was just as visually devastating, a charcoal grey, perfectly tailored suit emphasizing the slight curve of her waist and a fishtail braid holding her voluminous hair away from her face, a backup vial hidden between the strands. As they waited in line to have their invitation scanned, Zelda adjusted the burgundy tie tucked under Lilith’s collar, assuming the role of dutiful girlfriend._

_“Are you nervous, Miss Otto?” The dark haired woman whispered, leaning close to press her lips to her companion’s ear as the line of guests inched forward. To an outsider, their position was intimate, her arm wrapped securely around Zelda’s waist and their faces close together as if to share a secret. In truth, the muscles under her hand were tense as was the grip the redhead had on her neck. “You might consider a looser hold on my neck before me losing consciousness causes a scene.”_

_The glare she received was minute and would have been bone chilling if she were anyone else. Still, Zelda’s hand graciously slipped from her neck to rest on her shoulders. There were only four couples in front of them, so they would be able to separate shortly to appropriately “mingle” with other guests._

_“Just do your job, dear. There’s more guns here than Ambrose anticipated.” Though her words were sharp in Lilith’s ear, she turned away with a smile wide and bright for the security officer who held his hand out for her purse._

_She handed him the clutch and stepped away from her date to stand in front of the scanner, phony invitation in her other hand. They would not have a problem with the invite because Ambrose had taken care to steal an invite from another pair of guests and simply changed the names on the card, as well as hacking Lewis’s system to update the information._

_As Zelda stepped forward through the machine without a single beep, she could feel the breeze from the air-conditioner inside relieving her body from the oppressive summer heat. After her purse was returned, she briefly used the invitation as a fan before handing it off to the next person in the assembly line of security agents. A tall blonde man scanned the card, nodding when the name Miranda Otto appeared on his screen next to Zelda’s picture._

_“And, your plus one, ma’am?” He asked her. Before she had the chance to speak, Lilith resumed her position glued to Zelda’s back._

_“Right here, sir.” She told him, placing a kiss on the other woman’s cheek to sell the ruse. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the couple, whether because he was suspicious or was a homophobe, they couldn’t be sure. Regardless, he allowed them to step into the massive foyer without question or concern._

_They were immediately greeted by a tuxedoed server offering a tray of champagne which they gratefully accepted. Following behind the flow of schmoozing aristocrats, the women were bombarded by the sound of a live jazz band as they entered the ballroom. The large room was filled with small round tables, four stocked bars bracketing the corners, and mingling guests. There was a modestly sized dancer floor sectioned off and signs leading to another room, presumably where the items up for auction were being displayed. High above the room, a microphone was positioned in the center of the mezzanine, musicians stationed just below._

_There were at least two dozen guards stationed at random corners in the place, each with eyes roaming on their own section. According to Ambrose’s research, there was another doorway that lead to a secluded garden maze with a private entrance to Walter Lewis’s office where many of his shady dealings took place. Entering the study from inside the house would be impossible with the number of guards and their placements, so their best bet would be entering through the garden._

_Spotting an empty table, Lilith steered Zelda away from the guests entering behind them and towards one of the few isolated spots available. They were only sitting for a few moments, analyzing the room over their flutes of champagne, before an older woman interrupted them._

_“Oh, I’m so sorry to intrude, would you mind terribly if I sat here?” An older woman pointed to the modest heels tucked under her cyan gown, “these old legs can’t handle the dance floor like they used to anymore. We like to think we can keep up with you kids but these knees crack just walking up the stairs these days.”_

_Zelda looked like she wanted to refuse, but Lilith held out a hand before she had the chance to protest._

_“Of course, please join us, Mrs.…”_

_“Oh, dear, just call me Anne Marie. When you get to my age, the formalities seem silly.” Anne Marie claimed a seat at the table, slipping her feet from the constricting confines of her shoes. Once she was comfortable with her bare feet, she held out her hand for Lilith to shake._

_“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Anne Marie. My name is Michelle and this beautiful lady here is named Miranda.” Zelda was more reserved as she waved across the table to the newcomer. Lilith laughed and shook her head. “Don’t mind her, she’s a little angry with me from a squabble we had in the car on the way here.”_

_The redhead feigned indignation as she swatted Lilith’s shoulder playfully, though with real force._

_“So much attitude for someone who doesn’t want to sleep on the couch tonight.” She warned her fake lover. Anne Marie was just tickled pink by the exchange, smiling broadly as her husband came up behind the young couple to hand his wife a martini glass._

_“Thank you, Harold.” She took a generous sip of the libation before pointing to the couple across from her. “You have to meet these lovely young ladies. They remind me of us in those days. This is Michelle and Miranda.”_

_The gentleman with salt and pepper hair was short in stature with strong shoulders and kind eyes. He offered his hand to Lilith, grasping her palm firmly. When she returned the robust handshake, he lightly reached for her upper arm, squeezing the sizeable bicep hidden beneath her stylish jacket._

_“Why, Annie, this one is packing serious heat. Reminds me of my navy days.” While slightly uncomfortable with the contact, Harold’s warm and genuine laugh reassured her that he was well intentioned. She humored the man by sliding her jacket off to reveal a fitted sleeve and flexed her arm good-naturedly. They shared a smile as he took a seat beside his wife, putting his arm around her shoulder. “If we were 20 years younger, I might be worried about you stealing the Mrs away.”_

_“Yes, dear, I did have certain fondness for the ladies. Still do, in fact.” She told them, taking another sip of her drink. “But, you’re the only one for me, Harry.”_

_From the corner of her eye, Zelda watched them share a tender kiss and wondered if she would ever have the opportunity to love someone as thoroughly as they did each other. Playing house with Lilith made her wonder about the mysterious woman and her history. There was the information on paper, her accomplishments as a hired gun and the proficiency of her kills._

_Despite living in the Spellman Household for almost three months, Zelda made a point to always be unavailable beyond family meal times. Each member of the Spellmans boasted about her abilities; she taught Ambrose the art of Hollywood special effects make up, Sabrina learned the mathematics of how bullets moved in different climates, and Hilda made a friend in the kitchen who was far more proficient as a sous chef than Zelda ever would be._

_Though she was the one who personally recruited Lilith to their organization, her reservations with the other woman were personal. She was intrigued by the other woman in a way she didn’t have the leisure to be. Their initial meeting in Paris was proof that Lucifer was growing more bold and uncontrolled. Thankfully, the man was foolish enough to miss the true value of Zelda’s skill as an assassin and a leader, having successfully persuaded his own wife to abandon her loyalties and join the winning team._

_This was the first mission Zelda had accepted since Paris, having spent some months allowing Hilda to be the breadwinner of their family._

_After spending several minutes chatting with Anne Marie and Harold, the older couple suggested they take a walk in the garden, especially through the vibrant selection of roses. Seeing an opportunity, they excused themselves and retreated outside, the air still sticky as darkness fell completely._

_There were half a dozen other couples milling about the entrance, cigarettes and cigars in their hands, men laughing as they held onto their wives like trophies. They paid the women no mind as they withdrew from the crowd to wander arm and arm under the light of the moon. A wide variety of flowers lined the high hedges, from rose to lilies to peonies, grouped by color and creating a rainbow effect as they ventured further through the maze. If they weren’t strapped for time, Zelda might have taken the time to stop and smell the roses, as they say. Unfortunately, their window of opportunity was scarce._

_Following the map provided by satellite surveillance, the secondary entrance was found easily, though it was lightly hidden by a batch of overgrown Japanese boxwood. Zelda began to stand guard as Lilith removed her cuff links and began picking the lock of the glass door but she did not have to wait long as the door was already open._

_They entered directly behind a large, mahogany desk and matching chair, documents littering the surface. The walls were lined with pretentious art work and the bookshelves were stacked to the brim with tomes sporting unbroken spines, merely there for decorative purposes despite the value of numerous first editions._

_Lilith is quick to undo her braid, taking care to grab the vial of poison before it could tumble to the floor. Hilda was clear that the target would only need to touch a surface coated in the concoction as it was designed to be absorbed through the dermis. Ideally, skin absorption was the most effective method, acting within seconds of contact._

_However, before she had the opportunity to slather the chair behind the desk, they were alerted to the sound of footsteps thundering towards the other door. Thinking on her feet, Lilith pulled Zelda from hers and place her on the desk unceremoniously._

_“Have you gone mad? Unhand me this instant!” She growled under her breath, ready to strike the other woman before being summarily shushed._

_“Dammit, woman, just follow my lead.”_

_Just as the door opened, she stepped between the redhead’s legs and smashed their lips together. An unavoidable shudder coursed through her as Lilith pulled their bodies impossibly close, threading her fingers through silky, red hair. As if controlled by an invisible force, Zelda found herself melting into Lilith’s arms, wrapping her ankles behind the other woman’s back to trap their bodies together. She was so surprised by her own actions that she was unable to react as Walter Lewis and another man, armed, entered the room._

_Like they predicted, the sleaze of a man, clad in a white tuxedo, did not utter a single word about the women making out on his $30,000 desk. His companion followed suit and positioned himself across the room for the best view of the action. His boss slithered up in front of the desk, stopping just behind Zelda’s back._

_When Lilith dipped down to press hot lips against her neck, allowing her partner the moment to breathe, a soft whimper escaping Zelda’s lips as her companion’s teeth grazed her skin. The undercurrent of danger, and voyeurism, only amplified the growing want between her legs. Zelda feigned surprise as a very sweaty, male hand pressed into her lower back. She jumped off of the desk, shoving the woman away._

_“Good lord, we are so sorry.” She blushed, telling herself the rosy hue on her cheeks was simply excellent acting and not an enjoyment of the brief hot and heavy moment. The way that Lewis leered at her caused her stomach to roll, but Lilith saved her from the responsibility of addressing the man again._

_“Forgive us, Mr. Lewis. We just wanted a moment alone and it seems your office was the first room we could find.” The dark haired woman made a show of buttoning her jacket and offering her hand. She did not flinch as the grotesque man openly undressed them with his eyes._

_“Don’t mind me, ladies. I was quite enjoying the view before you stopped.” He drawled. The end game of this interaction was unclear, growing more uncertain as the minutes ticked away. For a moment, Zelda allowed the oil tycoon to think he was getting lucky as she walked around the desk to meet him, Lilith watching her like a hawk._

_Freeing her red hair from the pins, she shook her locks, creating a visual distracting for both men in the room to divert their attention from the needles in her hand. Like lightening, the first was thrown across the room, embedding itself in the bodyguard’s eye. It landed dead center and he shouted in pain, clutching the hairpiece. He never had the chance to remove it before Lilith was forcing down the plunger, having bolted across the room soon as her partner made the first move. She pulled the needle from his eye, shaking the blood onto the floor._

_When she finally turned around from the slumped over man, their target was already dead, Zelda wiping his blood off on his own jacket. They were able to depart quietly before anyone noticed what happened, zooming down the road just as the alarms sounded. Neither woman spoke the entire drive back to their hotel, each too consumed with thoughts of the other._

The Spellman Family arrive at Dorian’s Speakeasy five minutes before the clock was to strike midnight. A heavy fog falls over the quiet town. Two Morningstars are posted outside the alleyway entrance, positioned between an insurance agency and bookstore, obviously armed and dangerous with bulging muscles exposed to the evening air. A single overhead light flickers threateningly, casting shadows over their faces.

Zelda’s knuckles are white as she clutches the steering wheel like a lifeline. The low hum of the car does little to calm their collective nerves, so she cuts the engine. There is a plan and that plan will likely fail. Still, they are prepared for over a dozen scenarios and are armed to the teeth as they step out of the car.

Ambrose and Sabrina follow dutifully behind their aunts, walking two by two into the alley. Seeing their guests, the two guards rap twice on the door behind them. It swung open, filling the dark space with bright lights and soft music. The man who answers is handsome with a disarmingly charming smile.

“Welcome to Dorian’s, Miss Spellman. We’ve been expecting you.” He greeted, his blonde hair falling into his face as bowed to them. Stepping aside, he allowed them to enter the building and lead them down the stairs. “Mr. Morningstar will be pleased that you all could join us.”

As she stepped inside behind her sister, Hilda tapped the two men outside the door on their biceps, transferring the poison covered tape from her gloved palm to their skin. They would be dead in 5 minutes.

The youngest Spellman reached for her cousin’s hand, needing his ordinarily soothing presence to reassure her that they would see the next sunrise with all three of their aunts by their side. Their arms dangled between them, swinging loosely as they descended the stairs together. A change of tempo greeted the group while the voices in the room stopped when Zelda and her sister stepped through the doorway.

With all eyes trained on them, the cousins walked straight into the proverbial lion’s den, their palms dripping sweat.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tonight does not have to end with bloodshed, Dorian,” she frowns behind her glass, “that is not the goal.” 
> 
> He watches her with a sorrowful eye, “I think you know Lucifer won’t allow for a peaceful resolution.” With the clock ticking away, the crowd began to grow restless, encouraged by Lucifer’s rhetoric that eliminating the Spellman Family would solve their troubles. Their thirst for blood was palpable and ignorant. The younger assassins never falter or flinch, just stood with their weapons pointed forward, fingers hovering just above the trigger.

Zelda Spellman holds her head high and looks down the sharp line of her nose, in spite of the rising tension in her bones as her family trails behind her into the darkened club. She keeps her wrists positioned just above the pistols strapped to each of her thighs, prepared to return fire at a moment’s notice. A less confident killer would have ventured to conceal any weapons on their person, but there wasn’t a doubt that this encounter would end with blood shed, even if it were to be her own. With hope, they would escape the wolf’s den with only a few scrapes and bruises; still, there was no telling the violence Lucifer had planned for them and the lengths they would need to achieve to rescue Lilith. Being transparent about their willingness to spill blood failed to dissuade the cadre of Lucifer’s followers posted around the room who were keen on dying for their boss’s cause.

The life of an assassin was fragile, defined by their foolhardy belief that overwhelmingly poor odds was a challenge from the universe to survive, dangling on the precipice of death more often than any other human being ever could manage. Still, they lived to see the next sunrise and volunteered to return to the fire shortly after because this was the only life they’d ever known. Assassins are comfortable risking their lives for there wasn’t a soul to miss them in the event of their untimely demise. In a way, those without families to mourn them were the lucky ones. Their lives were never destined to be long, the premature death of their brother and sister in law taught the Spellman Sisters that.

Oh, how Zelda wished to have been born into another life. One without violence or danger or sorrow, where she did not have to raise her niece and nephew to be killers. She imagined a world where their parents weren’t victims of their grim profession. Where she had the ability to utilize her talents for a purpose beyond ending another’s life. As a young girl, even while under the strict instruction of her parents, Zelda dreamed of being a translator, a job far too pedestrian for a person with her considerable abilities.

 _You’re much too talented to waste away in a library_ , her mother told her once, so unaware of the agonizing weight she forced on her eldest daughter’s shoulders by rejecting her dreams.

Despite these regrets, she would never wish to alter a single moment in her life. Even amongst the everlasting darkness, she managed to expose the light, to find love with a woman who was beyond words and comparison. There were often times when her love for Lilith left her speechless, a foreign feeling for a woman who spoke nearly a dozen languages. But, even a great thinker like Zelda Spellman knew an attempt to name every single emotion she felt for the other woman would be fruitless. So, she endeavored to focus her energies on proving herself worthy of the dark haired woman’s affection every day.

Today, she was forced to save her wife from the clutches of a man who hated them both with blinding fury. Tomorrow, after they cried until their tear ducts were dry and made love for hours, she would beg for Lilith’s forgiveness for failing to protect her. They would just have to live long enough to make that happen.

If she were walking into the speakeasy under less deadly circumstance, she would have appreciated the beautiful craftsmanship of the room with ornate, golden pillars and burgundy draping. Even the band was first class, playing a smooth tune that perfectly punctuated the atmosphere of the space. Zelda could imagine herself tucked under Lilith’s arm, hidden away in a private booth as they sipped whiskey from crystal glasses and kissed between songs. The presence of other patrons would vanish as they became enthralled by the harmonies and each other. Unfortunately, they would never have the opportunity to enjoy a bottle of Macallan 12 and the plush leather seating currently occupied by contract killers. 

Walking into the bar would be the easiest part of their rescue mission; finding Lilith and surviving an escape would prove much more difficult with dozens of Lucifer’s followers positioned about room. Hilda recognized their faces and remembers their names from dozens of missions where her family was forced to eliminate Morningstar Clan members tasked with sowing chaos within influential companies and governments. They always sought the employ of corrupt parties looking to line their pockets with more money than they could ever spend in a life time and history would remember their choice to be the bourgeoisie’s personal executioners.

The absence of key members suggested that the rumors were true of Lucifer’s struggle for power since Lilith’s apparent disappearance. Without their highest earning assassin, the Morningstar name suffered and there was less money to be had for their organization overall. In reality, Lucifer’s dogs were ignorant of the funds he was hording as they struggled to find employment. This knowledge would be a powerful bargaining chip during this encounter.

Dorian lead the three women and gentleman to the bar, gesturing for them to take a seat on the plush stools before sliding under the barrier that separated him from customers. Only the eldest accepted his offer, climbing gracefully onto the seat.

“Can I offer everyone a drink?” He asked, disregarding the tension in the room as the three younger Spellmans turned their backs to the bar and formed a semicircle around the seated redhead. With pistols clutched between their hands, they guarded their leader with piercing eyes that bore holes into the heads throughout the room. Dorian spared a second to pray, hoping his hospitality would ensure they thought twice about taking his life when the time came. He could care less about the other idiots willing to jeopardize their lives to follow Lucifer to Hell. If his bar weren’t the chosen location for this standoff, he would have bought himself a ticket to a remote island when his cousin foolishly decided to bring his one-sided war to the Spellman’s doorstep. 

Zelda watched him intently and pointed towards the top of the glass shelf behind him at the bottle of Macallan 1926 he’d been saving for a special occasion. He supposed that there was a chance he would die this evening, so there was no event more extraordinary to be had. Filling two crystal glasses with amber liquid, the seasoned drinkers allowed the whiskey to breathe before taking simultaneous sips. Dorian savored the crisp flavor and the familiar burn as the $75,000 whiskey traveled down his throat. He expected silence from the stoic woman and is surprised when the Spellman matriarch speaks.

“I suppose you were saving this for a red letter day?” She probed, swirling the glass in her hand.

This wasn’t her first taste of the Macallan vintage, having liberated a bottle from a would-be mafia leader when she was in her 20s. The inexperience of youth had her finishing the entire bottle over the course of an afternoon and evening.

Zelda did not consider the consequences of using the young boy with curly blonde hair to lure his aging grandfather away from the anniversary party taking place on the terrace, simple views his participation as a necessary means to achieve her goal and promised him a surprise upon his return. She did not utilize any number of ruses that have been prepared to gain entrance to the picturesque Italian villa because the staff don’t bat an eye when the redhead strutted through the front door without a word. This was the privilege of beauty.

When the old man entered the master bedroom, looking down upon the party through massive windows from the top floor, he did not waste time reaching for her body. She allowed the intrusion from the lecherous parasite who believed she was a gift from his beloved wife and resisted the urge to kill the guests outside who seemed to cosign such behavior. His eyes were closed, waiting for a kiss that would never come, when she removed the jar holding one of Hilda’s latest creations from her purse.

She was gone from the room when the bright eye child returned to find his grandfather collapsed on the floor, his body paralyzed and slowly deteriorating from the venomous bite of a brown recluse spider bred by her sister with the appearance of a Mediterranean recluse. When medical personnel arrived, they would rule his death an accident, just the victim of a spider that wasn’t often deadly. The eight legged killer would be long gone before they considered the possibility of foul play.

Zelda thought she’d escaped unscathed until the young boy’s cries began to echo through the house, bouncing off the high ceilings to strike directly into her heart and altering the other adults on the grounds.

_Svegliati, nonno. Wake up, grandfather._

With family and staff rushing towards the tremendous sound, she took her leave through the first floor office before anyone can see her face. As the new widow’s cries joined her grandson’s, Zelda pilfered the bottle of whiskey sitting on the corner of the oak desk before climbing from the window. She hears their wails as she hurried from the property.

Of the plentiful trainings taught by aunts and uncles and her own parents, there was never a lesson on the human cost of their profession. She knew how to kill a man with one hand twelve different ways and how to craft poisons that would disappear before a toxicology screening could be performed and could slice a man’s femoral artery with such care that he would be dead before 911 is ever called. All this knowledge and she was powerless to the aftermath of her own actions. The cries pierced through the carefully fashioned armor of an assassin and planted themselves in her amygdala, forming a complex collage of roots in her psyche.

Her brother taught her to savor the restorative qualities of a proper whiskey, to give the memories permission to touch and tease but never control her mind and body. There were times where she completely ignored his advice and drank to suppress invading thoughts because the dead didn’t deserve to pass judgement on her life, even as their sister was forced to drag her like a puppet to bed. Without Edward, a piece of their family was fragmented and held together by their love for a young Sabrina and Ambrose. Overtime, with the support of her family, and eventually her wife, she was freed from the nightmares they never cautioned her about.

“I figured standing at death’s door is a proper excuse to pop the seal on the most expensive spirit in this bar.” Dorian remarked as he refilled her glass with two more fingers of whiskey. The band caused a ruckus as they set their instruments down for a break. Their voices seem larger than life without music in the background before he had a moment to activate the sound system from under the bar. Nina Simone’s dulcet voice is openly welcomed by the sitting red haired woman.

_Black is the color of my true love’s hair…_

“Tonight does not have to end with bloodshed, Dorian,” she frowns behind her glass, “that is not the goal.”

He watches her with a sorrowful eye, “I think you know Lucifer won’t allow for a peaceful resolution.” With the clock ticking away, the crowd began to grow restless, encouraged by Lucifer’s rhetoric that eliminating the Spellman Family would solve their troubles. Their thirst for blood was palpable and ignorant. The younger assassins never falter or flinch, just stood with their weapons pointed forward, fingers hovering just above the trigger.

“I do know, but you don’t have to be cannon fodder in his silly little war against my wife and family.” Her tone is sincere and her face grim. For a second, he ponders his options, wondering if he was willing to make the same sacrifices members of his family did. There was enough death in his history. If he died here, there wouldn’t be anyone to remember him or to care for his precious tavern.

“This bar is my dream, nothing else.”

When her glass is empty, Zelda twists her waist to place a hand on her sister’s shoulder. They communicate without words as only siblings can, speaking through matching emerald eyes. The blonde woman nods, never taking her eyes from the crowded room, taking a step forward to accommodate Zelda as she stands, still facing the bar. “Then, I hope you make the right decision tonight, Dorian. I would hate to see such a beautiful space soiled by Lucifer’s quest for power.”

Without speaking another word to the barkeep, the redheaded woman saunters away to stand in front of the life-size portrait of himself. He does not expect her to press the center of the picture, activating the hidden door mechanism that she absolutely should not know about. By the time she’s stepped over the threshold, leaving the three Spellmans and Dorian alone with a room full of people who wanted them dead, the owner has already made his choice just as Hell breaks loose.

* * *

As she travels down the dimly lit prohibition age tunnel, the echo of bullets ricocheting off the cement walls around her, Zelda’s heart pounds with the rage of a thousand drummers. She prays to any god willing to listen that Ambrose’s research was accurate and that this passageway would lead to the abandoned glass factory a quarter of mile way. The condemned structure was owned by the Morningstar Clan, cleverly hidden behind nearly a dozen offshore accounts under false names. For a man who believed himself extraordinarily intelligent, Lucifer was more akin to a children’s movie villain than a true mastermind, believing his plan to hide Lilith in the ominous building was foolproof.

She always wondered how a genuinely brilliant woman like Lilith found herself tangled up with such an idiotic man. However, their personal history was a closely guarded secret that Zelda never felt compelled to coerce from the mysterious woman. They might be married, but they were certainly permitted their own secrets. The redhead certainly had a number of her own. Besides, there were far more fascinating pieces of information to learn about the dark horse of a woman.

For example, the ebony haired woman was a morning person, much to her love’s displeasure, blooming like a flower under the sun’s gaze soon as the first rays of light peaked through the curtains of their room.

Lilith’s day routinely began with a gentle kiss to Zelda’s forehead and a slow process to detangle their bodies without waking the cantankerous woman from her peaceful slumber. She learned fast that there was nothing more menacing in the world than the eldest Spellman’s fury when sleep was stolen from her. So, she learned to move with the poise of a sloth, inching away from her paramour before the beautiful woman could be disturbed.

Once in a blue moon, the redhead found herself conscious enough to witness the daily routine of her lover. Despite the deep irritation she felt about being awake with the sun, she cherished the sight of Lilith throwing her arms to the sky, stretching the taunt muscles of her back with a flamboyant exhalation. With vibrant tattoos dancing across the sharp planes of her shoulders down to her lower back, the assassin was a work of art worthy of the greatest museums on the planet. Those days were her favorite, when she had the opportunity to begin the morning between the dark haired woman’s legs, savoring the absolutely obscene sounds that would leave her lips under the right ministrations. In the delicious haze of a dawn well spent, she silently thanked Lucifer Morningstar for leading the unbelievable woman straight into her arms, however malicious he’d intended their first meeting to be.

Little did she know, her wife contemplated the same notion at many an opportunity. The two assassins were made for each other, though they would have openly mocked the idea when they’d first conceived the plan to dismantle the Morningstar Clan’s organization.

_After their first mission together, Hilda was suspicious of the two women’s burgeoning relationship, as were her niece and nephew. Their apprehension wasn’t negative necessarily, but came from a place of concern for the matriarch of their family who they knew was more vulnerable to matters of the heart than she’d ever let another human being know. Beneath the steely armor she wore to safeguard their legacy, there was a woman that deeply craved the companionship of another, one who might see the woman she was beyond the marks of responsibility thrust upon her: an uncompromising aunt/mother, loving sister, gifted assassin, and fearless leader. These were roles she played expertly without ever voicing her contempt and frustration because she loved her family with every fiber of her being and genuinely believed her well-being was second to their own._

_Even as Sabrina and Ambrose advanced into suitable assassins under their aunts’ tutelage, Zelda insisted on shouldering the weight of their profession on her own. When the Morningstar Clan declared war on their family, she banned her little sister from field work, dreading the possibility that Hilda would not return if Lucifer were truly determined to eradicated every member of their family. The thought absolutely terrified her, despite never admitting this to the other woman. Hilda fought her vehemently, but the gods themselves would have a tough time changing Zelda’s mind. She wished to alleviate the burden her last living sibling carried and was refused at every turn, forced to relegate her ample skills to training Sabrina and Ambrose, as well as maintaining order among their extended family members when the redhead accepted assignments far from home. Still, she knew her sister’s fortitude was finite and her breaking point was near._

_Therefore, when her sister from Paris returned with a mysterious, dark haired woman in tow, there were many questions that needed answers they would never receive. While excitable and inquisitive, even Sabrina knew better than to voice the concerns she had about the stranger with a gravelly voice and calloused hands. Life with their leader was made simpler when they just followed orders and accepted her decisions as law. So, they rolled with the punches and kept an eye on the outsider, until her presence grew to become a welcomed addition to their established dynamic._

_Each member of the family had taken a liking to the newest member of their organization after a few short weeks, though they were distinctly aware of Zelda’s avoidance of the woman she’d chosen to recruit on a whim. Without fail, they trusted her judgement in allowing Lilith into their home, but the tension among their communal dwelling was tangible for several months._

_Unbeknownst to the entire family, the two women agreed upon returning that they would suspend missions for a minimum of three months to give Lucifer the impression that his plan to eliminate them both from his professional and personal life had succeeded. It was exceedingly likely that he would retaliate aggressively when he learned they’d elected to consolidate their talents rather than kill each other. However, this did not explain the reclusive behavior Zelda exhibited in that time._

_For three months, she took refuge in her office and unturned every stone there was to be found about the Morningstar Clan, dating back almost four generations. Zelda conducted her research wordlessly each day, her family knowing better than to distract the matriarch when she had a goal in mind. They supported her with their own irreplaceable qualities. Her sister and Sabrina always knew when she was hungry, bringing coffee and snacks on a tray throughout the afternoon, lingering on the small couch by the wall to ensure she consumed the small meals. Hilda focused on her knitting until Sabrina returned from school and began her homework in the seat her aunt vacated when she departed to make dinner. She was grateful to find folders of new information on her desk each morning with notes from her nephew about new avenues of research he was conducting, reminding her to utilize his unique set of skills to aid in her objective._

_While Zelda’s love for her family was profound and their daily visits worked to alleviate the emotional strain she felt as matriarch, there was one final visitor of each day that she grew to anticipate with pleasure. Obviously, she would never voice those words because she would rather die than admit such mushy sentiments, she certainly felt them._

_The first time Lilith dared disturb the red haired woman in her study, her gentle knock goes unanswered, so she moves the tray she carried to one hand and opened the door herself. She is convinced Zelda was avoiding her after the *incident* on their first assignment together, despite Hilda and the kids swearing otherwise. Since their return from Texas, she watched the cycle of Spellmans entering and departing the room, and waited for enigmatic redhead to exit. Unfortunately, Zelda never graced the outside world with her presence, taking her lunch and dinner alone for a week straight after their impromptu kiss._

_To a normal person, a simple kiss used to distract their target was easily forgettable. Even if Lilith didn’t know Zelda Spellman had an affinity for the fairer sex, she would have accepted shrugging the incident off and moved on with their lives. There were more pressing matters they should be focusing their energies on, namely Lucifer scratching at their door like the pest he was. When she agreed to return home with the redhead, she was under the impression that they would utilize her insider knowledge of his operations. She did not realize just how frustratingly hardheaded the other woman truly was, refusing to ask for her help and now choosing to run for the hills rather than just address their kiss._

_Yes, they kissed! It wasn’t the end of the world. Sure, Lilith spent most of the day replaying the evening in her head and fantasizing about a world where she was actually had the time to bend the stubborn woman across the desk and ravage her senseless. She was an adult, capable of maintaining a professional relationship with Zelda after hearing the uninhibited whimpers that came from her lipstick stained mouth. But, they were only thoughts. Completely harmless, innocent thoughts. So, why was she being avoided?_

_One evening, once the younger members of the family departed to their own bedrooms for the night, Lilith slipped into the kitchen to acquire two short glasses and a decadent slice of Hilda’s chocolate cake to pair with the decanter whiskey she discovered in the reading room. She was determined to unravel the mystery that was Zelda Spellman, the assassin who shared a crepe with her own would be killer on a park bench in Paris. Though Lilith had zero intention of endangering the peace of her new home, she did not appreciate being avoided by the redhead, especially over something as simple as a kiss._

_There was a light glimmer from a series of candles decorating the room, their flames dancing across the stacked bookshelves and burgundy walls filled with quaint family photos. To her left, there was a crackling fire, warmth seeped into her bones like a familiar embrace, cozy and wholesome. Across from the fireplace, the russet leather couch was home to a slumbering redhead, her fiery hair splayed over the edge with one leg thrown over the back as the other dangled above the floor. At rest, the worry lines etched into Zelda’s cheeks by years of responsibility disappeared, leaving her nearly translucent skin with a bewitching glow that was mesmerizing under the candles’ tender light._

_Just as Lilith turned back towards the door, a voice stopped her tracks, spoken so softly she almost didn’t hear it._

_“Stay.”_

_There was a short moment where she thought that she might have imagined the sound for the woman on the couch remained perfectly still, the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest the only indicator that she was even alive. She nearly dropped the tray in her hands when the redhead sat up abruptly, dragging her fingers through curls that had since lost their volume from a long day tucked between dossiers. The smile on Zelda’s lips was humorous as she studied the intruder dressed in flannel pajamas, likely a creation of her sister’s._

_“I never took you for the jumpy type, Lilith.” The woman in question glared down at her before setting the tray onto of the desk covered in journals and files. She grabbed a random folder to distract from the green eyes passing judgement upon her gifted clothing._

_Lilith failed to conceal the disbelief on her face when her eyes rapidly examined the open folder with Lucifer’s financial statements printed on the top page. There were far more zeroes than she expected, considering the meager amount of money she saw for the assignments she handled personally, having suspected that Lucifer was shorting her payments from the very beginning of their arrangement._

_She spared Zelda a brief glance before handing the other woman the glass of whiskey and joining her on the couch with the file in her left hand, another glass clutched in her right as she fingered through the documents in her lap._

_“I should have known Lucifer was withholding portions of my earnings. There is no way his gaggle of demons accrued this much money on their own.” She mused, swirling the brown liquid in its glass. “Those idiots barely have two brain cells to share between the seven of them.”_

_Her companion’s laugh was smooth, bouncing off the walls around them as she used one hand to tuck a stray curl behind her ear while Lilith grinned proudly at her. “Your abilities were quite lucrative for the Morningstar Clan, I’d imagine.”_

_“Oh, abso-fucking-lutely,” the dark haired woman exclaimed as she shut the folder with a huff and threw it across the room on to the desk, “Lucifer Morningstar and his entire clan owe me a great deal for saving their asses more than once. Their older members might have been worthwhile back in the day, but their offspring leave much to be desired as assassins.” Zelda watched her intently as she leaned back into the soft leather, throwing her hand along the back of the couch._

_“Well, according to these bank statements, there was much money to be made,” Zelda pointed out before emptying her glass, “you just weren’t receiving sufficient compensation for your services.” They both shook their heads._

_“I’ve always known Lucifer was a foul creature, but it’s another thing entirely to see the reality of his deception in ink.” She downed the rest of her drink too, staring longingly into the bottom of the glass. Before she had the chance to consider returning to the reading room for more, the redhead was up and pulling open the bottom drawer of her desk, bottles rattling against each other. “I never took you for someone who keeps an entire liquor cabinet in their desk drawer.”_

_“Then, you don’t know me all that well yet, Lilith.” Zelda told her coyly, bending her waist to reach for the bottle of Jack Daniel’s, unsubtly giving the other woman a prime view of her ass._

_Lilith watched the red haired woman intently as she refills their glasses with another dark elixir with a smoky aroma. She took a delicate sip, relishing in the slow trail of fire it left down her throat, and moaned sinfully low. To her credit, her companion suppressed the immediate reaction to revel in the sound, but she’s powerless to prevent the faint rise of color to her cheeks and took her seat on the far end of the couch. The room suddenly felt warmer than the crackling fire as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat while the other woman openly appraised her._

_“I think I know more than you realize,” Lilith’s lips curled into a knowing smirk and Zelda could almost see the mischief swirling in her eyes, probably reminiscing on the events of their fleeting encounter. She does not want to admit that she’s done the same for the last week, memorizing the feeling of the dark haired woman’s hands on her waist when she effortlessly hoisted her onto the desk. The sensation of Lilith’s lips on her neck plagued her dreams until she woke up panting and unsatisfied by the weak imitation her subconscious offered._

_Zelda shook her head in disagreement, “don’t overestimate yourself, dear.” She scrutinized the sharp raise of Lilith’s eyebrow, eyes darting between her lips and her eyes as the woman inched into her space. Her lungs refused to work and her heart threatened to rip straight from her chest when Lilith raised her unoccupied hand like she was going to touch her. She took the glass from Zelda’s hand and placed it next to her own on the coffee table in front of the couch._

_For God’s sake, they only kissed. There was no need for the timid school girl act, but Zelda was genuinely nervous. Never has she been so tempted by another person. Usually, she’s the one sending goosebumps and chills down a woman’s spine, playing the role of coy seductress. To be on the other side of the table was distressing and yet she could not resist leaning closer to Lilith, pulled by the force of an invisible string tethering them together._

_If they were to touch, there was a very real chance that Zelda was going to explode, taking the entire house and all of Greendale with her._

_Except, she doesn’t._

_Rather, Lilith reached into the breast pocket of her comically adorable pink flannel pajamas and was unbelievable smug as she waved a perfectly rolled joint in the redhead’s face. The smell of the marijuana was strong, Hilda’s plants often are._

_“A little birdie told me you might enjoy partaking in this expertly grown herb,” Lilith rolled the filter between her fingers before taking the tip between her lips. The redhead was too distracted by the way Lilith’s lips curl around the paper to notice that she retrieved a Zippo lighter with the same pocket. “Your sister is quite the horticulturalist.” She inhaled deeply, burning away the twisted tip of the joint with one full breath. Again, Zelda was tempted by her lips as they pucker to form a perfect O to release a thick plume of smoke into the air._

_“My sister has amassed an impressive collection of plants.” She graciously accepted the proffered joint, taking a long drag. They were sharing an original strain, appropriately titled “Black Widow” that was a brilliant shade of purple and imbued the user with a sense of tranquility and euphoria. Zelda held the smoke in her lungs, allowing the peaceful feeling to seep into her blood stream. The dark haired woman watched her, still leaning her body into Zelda’s air space as she studied the woman’s lips, smoke trailing from a nearly unnoticeable crack._

_Everything about this woman was inconceivable, from the flawlessly crafted shape of her lips to her hair’s vibrant shade of red. Up close, Lilith was enthralled by the woman responsible for holding the Spellman Family together, always wearing a brave face. Zelda might believe that she was a vault, hiding away the parts of herself that needed fortification, but her eyes were so expressive. They were windows into the soul of a woman, complex and sensitive._

_With the marijuana in her system calming her blood, Lilith was overcome by a surge of courage. Before Zelda had the opportunity to exhale, she wrapped her hand around the red haired woman’s neck and pulled their lips together, drawing the air from her lungs. Their bodies turned to face each other, her fingertips brushing across Zelda’s cheek tenderly as they explored each other’s mouths. The kiss begins gentle and exploratory, swiftly turning ferocious when Zelda fists the front of her shirt to drag her closer, holding the still burning joint away from their bodies. They nearly tumble from the small couch as Zelda reclined into the arm, forcing Lilith to balance her weight on one arm as she was pulled snuggly between the woman’s legs. Lilith kissed much like she killed, with poise and grace. Her tongue was hot, licking and biting at Zelda’s lips, demanding entrance for their tongues to battle for supremacy. She was rewarded with a moan so low and wanton that it vibrated down each notch of her spine. As her confidence rose, she moved her hand from Zelda’s neck to explore her body, the heat of her palm burning through the thin fabric of her blouse. Without realizing, Lilith’s hips began to grind against Zelda’s, causing the woman’s legs to fall open further._

_Lilith momentarily forgets to breathe when the redhead surprised her by shoving her body away. Her back hit the other side of the couch with a thud. Shaken by the sudden change, she was unable to react when Zelda straddled her waist, sitting squarely in her lap as she continues to smoke the joint. Her blouse hung half open, hair hanging messily over her collar bones. When she moved to sit up, she was forced back down with an insistent hand on her chest. For someone so small, Zelda Spellman was deceptively strong as she stared down at Lilith through darkened eyes._

_“I hope you didn’t make the erroneous assumption that I was a bottom, Lilith.”_

_The dark haired woman grabbed hold of her hips, keeping her body in place when she leaned toward the table to ash the joint into the ceramic tray near their glasses. There was something extraordinarily dignified about the way she sat in Lilith’s lap, with her spine straight as a board and her head held high. Like royalty. No, not just royalty. She is the Queen. Definitely the Queen. With everyone kneeling beneath her, bowing to the magnificence of her strength and power. No one would dare to question her._

_“A queen never sits at the bottom,” she answered back, “and, you are most certainly a queen, Zelda Spellman.” Without realizing, Lilith had become a disciple of her majesty. She was not a peasant, begging for the Queen’s acknowledgement. No, she is more important than that, yet she was still so unworthy of being in this woman’s presence. Could anyone ever be deserving of her?_

_Zelda took a final drag from the joint, the burning paper crackling until it reached the end of the filter. Crushing the embers in the tray, she used her free hand to grasp Lilith’s jaw and squeezed tight, forcing her lips to part. Slotting their lips together, the smoke slowly parted her mouth and drifted into the other woman’s, the excess disappearing into the air when their lips moved in synch. Eventually, they break away when Lilith sneaks her hand inside of her blouse, causing Zelda’s moan to fill the small room as she grasped her breasts through the thin, lace bra she wore._

_Their breathing was shallow, chests rising and falling against each other. Zelda’s thumb lingered against rosy lips, curling into a devious smirk. The tip of a pink tongue sneaked out to lick her skin. She ignores the childish behavior and stood up, pretending to smooth the wrinkles from her slacks. Lilith was still laying on the couch after she’s killed the remaining fire and walked towards the door._

_She looked back at the woman, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Are you coming or not, dear?” Lilith jumped from the couch without another word, ready to follow the redhead to the end of the universe. But, she was stopped before reaching the opened door. Zelda pointed behind her on the desk, her smile wide and wicked, “Bring the cake with you.”_

* * *

Zelda nearly reached the end of the tunnel when a dim light floods the space, barely giving her a moment to duck behind a dusty barrel before a loud voice bellows from the doorway. There’s at least three other voices speaking a hundred feet ahead of her, but they aren’t familiar. And, they don’t matter because there’s a fourth voice, screaming in agony in the distance.

_Lilith!_

Despite the desperate urge to rush forward, she is patient and waits with her gun for the door to close behind the last man. The trio make their way down the hallway, unaware of her presence in front of them. In the dark, they only have the flashlight of a single cell phone to guide them. She takes advantage of this and allows them to pass her crouched body before raising her weapon. Three bullets blast free from the barrel of the pistol’s silencer in quick succession, dropping their bodies to the floor. Crimson blood pools from their heads as she tip toes the last few feet to the door.

Lilith’s cries for her, pleading and weak, shred straight through her plan to clear the room first. If there was ever a moment to break protocol, now was the time. In the future, she would seriously caution her niece and nephew against this brash type of behavior because a heavy objected smashing into the back of her head has her vision swimming before she ever has the chance to lay eyes on her wife.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are candy. Give me some cavities.


End file.
